


Yesterday

by laneprince



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confusion, Dorks in Love, Ficlet, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Modern Era, kind of, they're so stupid it's endearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laneprince/pseuds/laneprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras was almost certain he was naked. In Grantaire's bed. He let that thought sink in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday

Enjolras felt a sudden, chilling draft in the room and knew it was morning. Even still, he refused open his eyes just yet, perhaps hoping to drift back into sleep. Last night strangely turned out to be one of those rare nights in which Enjolras slept well without waking during his sleep. If he could just lay there for a little while longer, perhaps the day might allow him another measly hour of shuteye.

For a minute or so, he just laid there, motionless. All was still. Another wisp of cool air whispered, tickling Enjolras's toes and crept up his legs, which felt oddly exposed. Enjolras cringed at the coldness, almost feeling the hairs on his arms begin to bristle. Reflexly, he searched blindly around the bed for a blanket, instead touching someone else's equally exposed skin. 

Immediately, Enjolras opened his eyes wide as he hastily drew his hand away from whoever he had touched, almost as if he had touched a scorching fire.

Even after Enjolras's eyes had opened, it took him a few dazed moments to digest the man snoring softly beside him. It was Grantaire's sleeping face, separated from his own face by mere inches. An burning blush attacked his entire body and he froze up. He nearly stopped breathing. Enjolras desperately attempted to recall the night before but he remembered nothing; everything was a blur.

Fortunately, Enjolras had a sheet draped slightly over him although Grantaire had himself bundled into the majority of the blankets. Enjolras sat up slowly as to not disrupt Grantaire's slumber and as he sat up, each and every little muscle in his body ached. He was sore in places he never even knew could feel sore. 

Glancing down upon himself, he noticed a section of the blanket that had been draped over him, had dropped just below his waist, fully exposing his bare chest. Enjolras was almost certain he was naked. In Grantaire's bed. He let that thought sink in.

"Oh, my God," Enjolras managed to exclaim as softly as he could, after a minute as he attempted to recollect his thoughts.

Evidently hearing him, Grantaire stirred, his eyes, an unending cobalt blue sea, opened to slits, dazedly fixed onto Enjolras, barley opened.

"Mm," Grantaire murmured groggily. As if in a dream, he leaned closer to the blond man (if that was possible), and planted lazy kisses up his arm, each kiss stinging as if it were a tiny needle pricking its way up the surface of his already-aching skin.

Enjolras wanted to pull away but his body simply refused to allow him to move a single inch; he was frozen, his entire body growing suddenly numb everywhere, so that he only felt Grantaire beginning to leave faint love-bites on the underside of his jaw; his jaw clenched somewhat reflexly at the new feeling.

After a second, Grantaire paused and sat up. He rubbed at the sleep clouding his vision, opened his eyes and stretched, each bone and sore muscle relaxing inside his skin.

"Um," Enjolras could barley speak. His jaw still tingled from Grantaire's sleepy, prickling nips and kisses.

"Hi," Grantaire murmured, voice still gruff with sleep as he blinked and his lips adopted a faint smile. He rubbed at what the other could see was the beginning of a bruise on his neck.

"Wh-what happened last night? Oh, God, did we..." Enjolras's voice trailed away as the feeling of soreness crept back into his muscles.

"'Did we have sex last night'?" Grantaire finished the sentence for him. "Don't think so," He said, almost frowning.

"How sure are you?"

"Mm." Grantaire paused for a few moments. "Well, seeing as I'm not clothed underneath these blankets... not so sure."

"Um, I'm... I'm going to the bathroom," Utterly flustered, Enjolras just barely mustered enough strength to pull himself out of bed, dragging a sheet with him so that he was not walking around stark naked _in Grantaire's apartment_ and sought out the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

It was cold. It hurt to walk. Everything hurt. 

It was sort of a good kind of hurt, Enjolras thought. He quickly dismissed that thought and leaned against the wall, sliding slowly down until he was sitting limply on the floor, naked, and wrapped up in a blanket _in Grantaire's apartment_.

(Enjolras still could not stress that enough to find it believable.)

——

Nearly thirty minutes thereafter, Enjolras was clad in one of Grantaire's gray t-shirts and a pair of his old sweatpants. He only wore them because Grantaire told him it was either wear his clothes or stay naked (which Grantaire would not have had a problem with) since Enjolras's clothes had been misplaced somehow, so Enjolras decided to borrow the other's clothes.

"How did, er... this happen, anyway?" Enjolras inquired, pulling back his blond curls into a slapdash tie as he sat uncomfortably on the couch.

"I believe I recall being drunk at Courfeyrac's party-" Grantaire started.

"No surprise there..." Enjolras commented; Grantaire rolled his eyes. Enjolras felt the terrible pain in his head creep back and he made a miserable, wounded sound in the back of his throat. "So this is how a hangover feels? Christ, how you deal with this nearly every day, I'll never know."

"One does tend to become accustomed to it, I suppose," Grantaire shrugged. Enjolras began rubbing at the little marks littered all over his neck.

"Um, I'm going to leave. Can we just forget this ever happened?" 

"Are you not even going to acknowledge last night?" Grantaire glowered at the other man, who seemed to be oblivious to what this was doing to the other.

"Why should I? I don't even reme-" He started before Grantaire cut him off, leaning in deftly, stealing a kiss from him. Enjolras cursed his hands when he realized that within moments, they were buried in Grantaire's hair as he toyed with the kinks and curls. And the worst part was that Enjolras found that he did not quite mind it, either.

Grantaire broke the kiss and Enjolras gingerly disentangled his digits from Grantaire's ebon curls.

"Well?" Grantaire smirked, cheeks pink.

"Well, I may remember a bit of something yesterday..." 

"Oh, really? Like what?" 

"I don't know, just... something."

"Care to elaborate?" Implored Grantaire, canting his head as if he were so innocent himself.

"Maybe kissing and, um, touching..." _Excessive touching_ , Enjolras thought, and his fair cheeks flushed a violent red shade. 

"Ah. Was that a good thing? Like that kiss just then, was that a good thing?" Grantaire wet his lips and looked at everything he could excluding Enjolras.

"I-I didn't _not_ enjoy it." Enjolras muttered.

"So, you did enjoy it, then?" 

"Are you _trying_ to make me admit it?"

"Pretty much." Grantaire said with a smile that was irritatingly smug yet somehow Enjolras thought it was quite endearing.

"Fine! I enjoyed it," It was silent for a minute and Grantaire turned to Enjolras abruptly.

"I'm going to kiss you now." Grantaire announced.

Enjolras's lips twitched upward to form a strange smirk that Grantaire rather enjoyed. "Feel free. I don't see anybody stopping you." 

Grantaire kissed him tenderly, the other man smiled against his lips; Grantaire hummed in approval.

Enjolras broke the kiss, although their faces lingered near one another, their foreheads just barely touching against each other's. 

It was peacefully silent for a minute as both of the reluctant men remained motionless; After listening to Enjolras's quiet, steady breathes for a couple of seconds, Grantaire broke the silence.

"You know, I love you." Grantaire confessed, voice fixed at a mere murmur in the still room.

"Is that so?" The other questioned, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Always has been," A whisper.

"Mhm," Enjolras murmured.

"I love you so much. I have always loved you, I always will. I love your persuade speeches, and how devoted you are. And I love your smile, though I am not usually lucky enough to witness your smiles. And I especially love how passionate you are when you talk. Oh, and your eyes. I love your eyes. And I did mention your smile, yes? Because I really do love your smile. And, oh how I love that thing you do when..." Grantaire rambled on and Enjolras shushed him softly, cupping Grantaire's face in his hands and kissed him briefly. That shut him up... for a second.

"So you do love me, then," Grantaire grinned broadly.

"Oh, shut up." Enjolras kissed him again.

"You know it's true..." 

"It is." The blond man smiled faintly and Grantaire kissed him again; Enjolras didn't mind.


End file.
